


Dangerous Liaisons

by TheGeekyLibrarian



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 05:44:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1376038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGeekyLibrarian/pseuds/TheGeekyLibrarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU where Tywin Lannister decides to remarry after Joanna's death, in order to consolidate his position in the steadily shifting intrigues at the court of King Aerys II. His choice of bride is the recently widowed Lady Olenna Tyrell, currently in control of the Reach. But as he soon discovers the lady lives up to her reputation for a quick mind and barbed wit, and she has a will to match his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dangerous Liaisons

**Author's Note:**

> An idea that sprung from a prompt on the ASoIaF kinkmeme. This first chapter is a longer, slightly rewritten version of the fill I posted (and I apologise to those who have already read that, there's not much new stuff here), but I have plans for more chapters, so keep an eye out. 
> 
> Note, in my mind I've de-aged Olenna a little, so I imagine her as being about the same age as Tywin. 
> 
> Also, this has not been beta'ed, so all mistakes are mine.

Lord Luthor Tyrell died during a harvest-time hunt. Preoccupied with following the movements of his prized hawks, he quite forgot to watch where he was going, and rode his horse off a cliff. It sounded ridiculous to most ears, but all the members of his retinue swore that it was the truth, and when his body was then returned to Highgarden bearing wounds consistent with a fall from a great height, the cause of his death was discussed no further. 

The sad news, however, travelled quickly across the Reach, and soon vassals of House Tyrell began sending representatives to Highgarden to pay their last respects to their lord. Some noble houses did the same, but since the lord's death had come at an awkward time, many begged forgiveness in well thought-out letters filled with condolences, and only the most desperate for favor made the journey to Highgarden. The widow, Lady Olenna, received them all, as was her duty, but more than one envoy remarked in their reports home that she did not seem particularly distraught at the loss of her husband. 

Those few envoys who lingered in Highgarden were gifted with more news to write home about when the Hand of the King himself rode through the gates one day, unannounced, and only accompanied by a few members of his personal guard. 

His arrival caused quite a stir in the courtyard, but if Lady Olenna was surprised, she did not show it. She greeted him personally, of course, and made sure he was given every courtesy. And it amused her greatly to see the brief glimpse of suspicion on his face when she escorted him to one of the private gardens. 

When the wine had been poured, and they were seated comfortably, she dismissed the servants with a smile and a gesture. Only when she was certain that that they were well away did she speak. 

“My lord…” 

“My lady. My condolences on the loss of your husband.” 

He sounded genuinely concerned, and it was that more than anything that almost caught her off guard. 

"Thank you..." 

Almost. She puts on a courteous smile, and gestures towards the wine glasses, before taking one. 

"Now, to what do I owe to pleasure of your visit?" 

He does not speak at first, nor does he reach for the glass in front of him. He simply watches her, and she begins to understand why it is said that most men flee from his gaze.

Even now, when he seemed to be eyeing her with interest, perhaps even amusement, his eyes were cold and piercing. She could imagine how they would look when he was angry. 

"I came to offer my condolences. I did not expect to find you so...unaffected by the loss." 

There is a hidden barb in the way he says ‘unaffected’, as if he is implying that she does not grieve her husband at all. She fights the urge to snap at him, simply because she knows that is exactly what he wants her to do. Instead, she smiles innocently. 

"And here I thought you would commend me on my strength. You’ve met my husband on occasion, my lord. Would you mourn him?" 

"I was not his sworn life partner." 

"And he was not my choice. Please don't tell me you came expecting the same show I have to put on for everyone else? 

"Then perhaps you should stop acting it out." 

He takes a sip of wine, waiting patiently for her next move. 

She cocked her head slightly to one side, reaching for her own glass, still smiling as if this balancing act did not strain her at all.

"What do you want?" 

She carefully lets just the right amount of suspicion mix in with the smiling words, and watches him with satisfaction as he is no longer able to hold her gaze. He remains silent for a moment, before taking another sip of wine and setting the glass back down on the table. 

"I have a proposition for you." 

She inclines her head gracefully, taking care to keep a suitably teasing smile on her lips. 

"I'm listening... What proposition could the Hand of the King have for me, I wonder?" 

There was silence again, and the longer it lasted, the more uneasy Olenna felt herself become. She did not know Tywin Lannister well, her husband had kept them away from court as best he could, but news from King's Landing travelled through the Reach as easily as the Mander  
itself, and the news that came through regarding the King's Hand did not suggest a man who hesitated. But the Lord of Casterly Rock hesitated now, and that made her alternately worried and more curious. 

"Marriage." 

It took a moment for the word to register, and when it did, she could not conceal her reaction. Her laughter echoed through the empty garden, and she could not help but feel a certain satisfaction when she saw how his eyes narrowed. He had always been obsessive about propriety, and hers was not the proper reaction to a marriage proposal, however uninspired it was. 

"I am sorry, my lord. I must have misheard you... I thought I heard you suggest marriage to me." 

She puts on her most good natured face, just to annoy him, and made her voice sound apologetic even though she was not sorry in the least. 

"I am suggesting marriage to you." He replied, deliberately emphasising that he had not given up the prospect, despite her half-hearted attempt to ridicule him. 

She watched his eyes narrow, the first flares of that elusive anger appearing in the gold flecks, and it amused her all the more. Other men would perhaps have blushed and apologized after such a rejection, but Tywin Lannister sat still as stone, his face unreadable. 

"Why in the name of the Seven would I wish to marry you?" 

The amusement slipped from her words as easily as it had coated them. She crossed one leg carefully over the other and straightened in her chair, setting her steel blue eyes in him, to remind him that he was not the only one who could instill fear in men with a look. 

True enough, she was a widow now, and the seat at Highgarden would be a fair prize for any man who thought to set about winning her. But Tywin Lannister ruled all of the Westerlands, and, if word from the capital was to be believed, King's Landing as well. If he had his sights set on the Reach, she could think of other ways he might go about acquiring it. 

"I fail to see how else you plan on staying here." He gestured vaguely towards their surroundings with one hand, and the shadow of a predatory smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. 

In response, she shrugged, relaxing back into her seat with her arms placed carefully on the armrests. Behind her words there was the pricking of thorns. 

"And I fail to see how that should be any concern of yours. Besides, I have never known you to be proactive when you can just as easily achieve your goal through patience. In other words, if you have so little faith in my ability to run a keep, and keep my house in order, all you have to do is wait..." 

"So I may watch as another man ascends to the seat at Highgarden?" 

She shrugged again, as if to say; what do I care? 

"You can hardly be that desperate. Hand of the King and Warden of the West that you are... Highgarden is a fine place, but it is a poor prize for a man who already rules in King's Landing, wouldn't you agree?" 

She paused for effect, and watched as, despite his every effort to seem unaffected, his jaw and shoulders tensed. Now, at last, she was getting somewhere... 

"Has the gold of Casterly Rock run dry?" she suggested, fully aware that the notion was as ludicrous as the idea that there was no more saltwater left in the sea. 

"Or perhaps..." she continued, watching her visitor intently. 

"It is not my wealth or the beauty of Highgarden that you seek, but something else. Word from the capital has it that you're having trouble managing our dearly beloved regent... perhaps what you really want from me is an ally?" 

Olenna stood, and began walking, slowly following the stones in the circle where their chairs were placed. Her visitor sipped his wine, and looked away for a moment before speaking. 

"Assuming you're correct...Would that be such a far-fetched hope?" He asked, throwing her a sideways glance. 

"That would depend on your ambition." She replied, turning towards him.

"It is a dangerous thing to speak against a king, as you undoubtedly know. I have no wish to be dragged from here to King's Landing to be executed for treason." She threw a glance at him over one shoulder, and saw that his eyes were following her movements. 

"My ambition is not the throne, it is merely...insurance, should Aerys... " He stopped himself abruptly, apparently deciding he had already revealed too much about his relationship with the king. 

"Together we would have the rule of both the Westerlands and the Reach, such a force is not to be trifled with...not even a king willingly goes to war with half a country." 

"And what would I gain from this arrangement?" 

She returned to her seat opposite him, perching herself on the edge of the chair, and reaching for her goblet.  
"Highgarden would be securely in your grasp, for one..." 

"I could just as soon accomplish that by marrying one of my late husband's brothers." She replied easily, sipping her wine. 

Her sparring partner let out a bark-like laugh at that. 

"Truly. And which one should I congratulate with the honor, hm? The sweet-smelling Lord Seneschal, who, may I remind you, have already sired two bastards... or perhaps you'd prefer Ser Moryn, the Lord Commander of the Oldtown City Watch?"

His chuckle sounded almost genuine, as he turned towards her and gave her an odd half-smile, as if he was actually amused by the thought of her other marriage prospects. 

"Come now, my lady... why would you settle for a fool? You, the Lady of the Arbor who once turned down a Targaryen suitor. You can do better than one of the remaining Tyrell brothers." 

"A fool is easily controlled, my lord, as you very well know. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought you truly wanted to wed me." 

"I can be very convincing, when I choose to." His voice sweetened with the words, and he gave her a charming smile, as if to underline the statement, but didn't hold her gaze for long when she took his silent challenge without hesitation. 

“If you would rather consider it a business arrangement…” he began again, letting the words fade without finishing. 

She looked at him, took in the way he sat, relaxed seemingly unaffected, as if he was already the lord of Highgarden, and yet… this could not be as easy for him as he made it out to be. By all accounts, even those out to tarnish him, he had loved his wife deeply, more so than she herself could ever have claimed to love her late husband. Perhaps, in truth, his suggestion was more for his own benefit than hers. 

Gods, was she actually thinking of accepting him? A marriage between them was a disaster waiting to happen, surely he knew that as well as she did. The two of them would tear each other to pieces... 

But then again, it was an interesting offer. With him at her side, no one would dare as much as open their mouths to question her claim to Highgarden, despite that claim now being perilously close to none-existent. And he was a clever man, which was more than could be said of any of her other current prospects. Perhaps it was worth the risk of always having to be on your guard... at least it would never be dull.  
She took a deep breath before speaking. 

“Very well. If this is to be a business arrangement, here are my terms. If you lay a hand on me without my permission, I’ll murder you in your sleep. I want the freedom to accompany you to court if I wish, I won't be locked away at Casterly Rock like some prize you've won." 

"I expect you to fulfill your obligations as my wife..." his voice turned to ice in an instant as he began to protest, but she cut him off. 

"And I expect you to earn the right to act as my husband in anything but name.” 

There was silence, but she could see his jaw working. He wasn’t looking at her, but she could tell just from the way he held himself that he was struggling with the thought of having to earn her. She considered the fact that it might be too much for him, that he might revoke his tentative offer, but just as she prepared to hear the retreat, he spoke. His voice was decisive, but betrayed little emotion. 

“You must never question my authority in public…” 

She wanted to laugh, but this time she managed to restrain herself. Of course that was his first concern. 

“And in private?” She asked, teasing, but he did not take the bait. 

“What we fight about in private is no concern of mine. But in public, and especially at court it is absolutely paramount that we seem united. If not, we both run the risk of losing our heads, or worse...” 

Her smile faded at that, and she nodded in recognition. She did not want to contemplate what a fate worse than death might entail at King Aerys' court. 

“Do we have an arrangement?” 

His voice sounded both distant and businesslike, as if they were discussing some sort of trade, and not whether or not they could agree to spending the rest of their lives together. In the end, she supposed, that was indeed a kind of trade - one she had been subject of before, but not by her own will. 

Olenna considered her options. She could refuse, and continue to play the gracious hostess until the King's Hand left Highgarden. Doing so would spare her from a life of having to measure every word she spoke and always look over her shoulder at court. But the only excitement she could count on if she stayed at Highgarden was the squabble over inheritance that was sure to result from Luthor's death, and that was nothing compared to what she would witness in King's Landing. 

King's Landing would be everything Highgarden was not. Dangerous, full of intrigue and deception. She would have to be careful what words she uttered, and to whom she spoke them. She could count on no one but herself... but she was good at that. 

She had a quick mind, her own father had said as much, and he had doted on her for it. He had taught her how to play cyvasse, as well as other games, and often boasted about her to visitors. But the boasts made her sound like a novelty, something to be put on display and admired...  
It was her mother, who one evening had wiped her tear-stained face and whispered that it did not matter, that there were other ways to achieve what you wanted. And that if they thought you beautiful, if the thought you obedient, they would never suspect...never dream that you might outsmart them. Her mother had taught her a different set of games, no less effective, and the results much more desirable. King's Landing would offer the ultimate test of her abilities. She straightened in her chair, and reached for her goblet, eyeing him carefully as she took a drink. His eyes had pierced her since the question was uttered, and he showed no signs of backing down. This muted agression made it all the more satisfactory for her to play at ignorance, but she knew she could only stretch it so far... 

She set the goblet down, and let her mouth quirk upwards into a half-smile, the kind she knew he hated. When she spoke, her voice was steady, without a trace of emotion, as his had been moments before. 

“Yes, my lord. We have an arrangement.”


End file.
